In America
by chickenwriter
Summary: A multi-part story. Moments in Princess Diaries when they came to America to meet Mia. Clarisse and Joe. First fanfic in a long time :)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
"I'm your head of security, and you want me to be a chauffeur and a babysitter?" Joe quipped, disgusted at the thought of driving around a 15 year old girl for the entirety of their stay.

"For the time being, yes. The child needs protection." Clarisse came back with a biting force.  
"Your majesty…" He began to protest once more when Clarisse brought her hand to her head.  
"I expected her to be shocked, but I did not expect her to run." She said, squaring off with Joe. "Joseph. Will you do this?"  
"Yes, your majesty." He couldn't refuse her. She looked genuinely upset at the way her granddaughter had reacted. Clarisse put a hand on his arm. He flinched slightly. It was the first contact they had since arriving in America.  
"Thank you." She said, squeezing his arm gently, and turning to go back into the consulate.  
Joseph touched the place where her hand had been. These moments were few, but they were something he enjoyed. He could remember every place that she had touched. After loving her in secret for so many years, these moments were all he had.  
"Charlotte" he called.  
"Yes?"  
"Can you make sure her majesty has a car ready at all times? And make sure when I am away that you are taking extra care of her. And when…"  
"Everything is under control, sir."  
"Right." Joseph gave an apologetic look and began to walk away. He walked past the tea left cold on the table, and stupidly envied Clarisse's teacup for meeting her lips.

It had been too many years that he had watched her. He watched her forge a deep friendship with the king. He watched as they said their vows, as so many did. He watched as her body grew swollen and sore with pregnancy, and shrank only to swell again a year later. He watched her kiss and coddle her children. He watched her try to form a romantic relationship with her husband, sometimes in painful detail. He watched wrinkles form around her eyes. He watched her cry when her firstborn announced his abdication. He watched her face turn to glass when she lost her husband, and he watched her shatter when she lost her son.

And now he was watching her sit alone with her hands folded on her lap – worry on her brow. He wanted nothing but to hold her. He didn't want to watch anymore, he wanted to envelope her and take her away from everything. She had waited so long to meet her granddaughter. At first he knew it was to continue the bloodline, but now that she had seen her, he knew it was family that broke her heart now.

A hoarse voice cut through her silence.  
"Clarisse"  
She jumped slightly and stood up to look at Joseph. He was silhouetted by the light coming through the window; his soft features turned sharp in the sun.

"Joseph" she said. Her tone was scolding. She didn't like when he called her by her name; it was too personal, and it made her feel too many emotions all at once. She could maintain a distance if he only spoke her title.  
He stiffened. He knew this tone. It always preceded words like "Not now" and "monarchy." And it always carried an air of political rejection.  
"I was just checking on you. Should I send Charlotte in with some tea?" He tried to cover up what he had really wanted to say.  
"Come here." She motioned for him to sit down next to her.  
"Yes, your majesty" Clarisse sighed softly, she had needed him just moments before, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it.  
"I was…I am rather upset about this, you know. I was so looking forward to meeting our future queen. Someone bright and cool. Young, but teachable. And now…"  
"You don't think she's capable?"  
"Well…that's why I need you to watch her. I'll go talk to her tomorrow, bring both the cars, and you will be driving her to school."  
"Madame…" He started to protest again. Why couldn't someone else drive around a 15 year old girl? He certainly had bigger things to do as the queen's head of security.  
"Joseph, there is no one I trust to do this more than you." She said softly. He stood up, and looked at her.  
"I won't let you down, your majesty" He joked, leaving the room. The truth was that he needed to leave; what she had just proclaimed shocked him, and his need to pull her close was overtaking his rational thoughts.  
"Joseph! I wasn't done" she called after him. He turned and took a few steps toward her.  
"What else can I do for you, your majesty?" It was Joseph who needed that distance at this moment. Clarisse saw him fidgeting slightly with the keys on his belt. She stepped forward and steadied his hand with her own. He tensed as she slid her small hand into his palm and squeezed, keeping it there as she spoke.  
"I've had a change of heart. When it is only us in the room, you may call me Clarisse" He used his thumb to stroke the back of her hand.  
"There is nothing I would like more, Clarisse" Of course this is a lie she saw right through. She knew how he felt. How could they be in the same room every day for so many years and not form some kind of friendship…or more?

Clarisse often thought about what it would have been like to meet Joseph on the street in Puerto Rico. Every last detail had crossed her mind. The clothing, the weather, the café… It would have all been perfect. These were improper thoughts for a queen to have, but she kept them buried inside like a sort of light for her love for him.

She had to be careful. No one could know that she felt anything for her head of security – including him. Clarisse would be mortified if anyone knew. It was too soon after the loss of her husband to reveal a 30 year secret affair that had been taking place in her fantasies. She had loved Rupert deeply, but there was never passion. He was her best friend and confident, and the marriage had gone splendidly. There was always the matter of Joseph. Rupert knew. He never told her that he did, but he had seen them interacting, and you could have lit fires with the sparks they thought they were not emitting.

Joseph never suspected that Clarisse had any feelings for him. Why would a married queen even think about him as more than her head of security? He knew this trip to America could make or break his chances at ever telling her how he felt. He wanted so badly to be too tough for such a long secret love, but he wasn't. It had been going on since the moment he saw her. No one else ever quite matched up. He knew that she had feelings of a friendship that she tried so hard to fight – nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Clarisse had convinced Mia to take princess lessons and use the car. Joseph was out of the sight of the queen for most of the week now. He was suffering without seeing her face. All he needed was a smile from her, and he would be filled with hours of unbridled, no-one-can-touch-me, joy. It was silly how simply she made him happy. He'd be thinking about a comment that she made, and smile to himself days after she said it.

In any case, Joseph had attended most of the lessons, and even helped during a few. Clarisse would always approach him with the schedule for her lesson so he could get her prepared. She had asked him to purchase some stockings and nice shoes for Amelia to wear when she came to lessons. He protested out of embarrassment, but Clarisse insisted. Luckily, she had Charlotte call in and order them, and all Joseph had to do was pay.

"Joseph" The queen entered the room, and everyone flew to their feet. "Today we need to teach Amelia one of our traditional ballroom dances; I will need you to teach her since I am not used to leading."  
"Which one, your majesty?"  
"You choose the one with which you are most comfortable. She just needs to start preparing for the ball."  
"Yes, your majesty." Joseph found some music and set up the Bose CD player in the ballroom. He would teach her how to spin, the steps and everything else that she needed to look like an elegant and royal woman during the Independence Day ball. Suddenly Joseph was struck with an idea. He would ask the queen to dance with him when the opportunity presented itself. If the opportunity presented itself.

At the start of the lesson, he asked Clarisse to show Amelia what the dance would look like. Clarisse summoned Charlotte and had her step in. Joseph was discouraged, but Clarisse was going over some important documents. When Amelia was dismissed, Clarisse told Joseph he could go as well, but he snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear.

For the first time, Clarisse allowed herself to feel something as she was lead onto the dance floor. His hand was warm in hers. His body moved against her. Her mind was a flurry of feelings that she had all at once always and never felt for anyone. Joseph was melting her into the music.

Joseph could not believe what was happening. He must have been wrong about how Clarisse felt. She had given herself over completely to him as she had never done before. He could feel her, warm against him as they danced in the private room. He took the liberty to pull her in and inhale her scent. He felt that it reached his soul. Nothing had ever been so amazing as this moment. He fought himself to keep control of his mind and his body.

Clarisse nuzzled against Joseph as he held her from behind. She never wanted the dance to end. He twirled her around to face her, and she closed her eyes. Her feelings were too intense to look directly at him. She pulled on his hand to turn herself back into his body, his chest pressing against her back. She could smell his cologne joining with her perfume between them. In this position, she could enjoy being so close to him for the first time. They didn't need to make eye contact here.

He leaned his head against her cheek, and he couldn't pull her closer if he tried. He heard her sigh softly and he wondered what she was thinking in that moment. He knew what he was thinking, but saying it out loud would be completely inappropriate. He wanted so badly to kiss her shoulder, and he wondered if testing out her feelings in this setting would really be fair for her. Anyone could come in at any moment. A simple dance misinterpreted by the media would be a disaster. These thoughts almost made him pull away, but Clarisse was holding on tightly. He could see that her eyes were closed and her whole body was relaxed.

When the music ended, she let go abruptly, but Joseph grabbed at her, catching her wrist. She looked up, shocked, but he softened his grip just in time. He was staring at her lips. She could tell. Did she want to kiss him? She asked herself over and over if she should do so.

He wanted to taste her, but he couldn't do anything without her permission. He was staring at her lips in anticipation of an answer. He didn't know how much control he would have if she said yes.

She was nodding softly by the time Joseph exited his thoughts. He put a gentle hand on her face.

"Are you sure?"  
"Completely"

Their lips met slowly. She was trembling and shaking, tears sprang to her eyes. It was all too much emotion. She'd never acted on her feelings. 30 years she had been waiting for this kiss. And here she was, in the middle of a ballroom, tears spilling out of her eyes. Joseph pulled back and immediately began apologizing. He was afraid she didn't want him, that the kiss had scared her or worse. She smiled slightly and brought her hand to his face.

"I'm so sorry. I'm a mess" Another kiss. This time urgent, needy, quick and slow, all at once. She felt herself moving backwards as they kissed. Joseph was slowly pushing her against the marble column. She knew she should have been appalled at his behavior, but instead she was thankful for the support of the stone. He was holding her face by running a hand across her cheek and through her hair. Years of suppressing his feelings travelled through her lips until she put a hand against his chest. A wide smile spread across her face. He looked shocked, both at her and at himself. They stared at each other for a moment before Joseph spoke.

"Clarisse…" She raised a finger to his lips.  
"No, I don't want to talk about it."  
"We should." He urged.  
"Yes, I suppose we should. Later, please. I need time to get myself together." It was then she realized that Joseph had removed her scarf and it was currently in the middle of the floor. She smiled and added, "Literally." Joseph ran over and picked it up, putting it back around her neck and smiling sheepishly.  
"Clarisse, I've wanted this for so long" He put a hand up to rest on her cheek. She cast her eyes downward and covered his hand with her own, sliding it off her face but continuing to hold it.  
"Later, Joseph." She cautioned, seeing Charlotte pass by the room. "10:00 in the garden." She would have invited him to her chambers, but she had lost so much self control already. She wasn't sure what she had left.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

At 9:48 Joseph left his room.  
Clarisse was still pacing in hers.

At 9:49 she slipped on some shoes.  
He heard the squeaking on the tile as he walked.

At 9:50 he had already made it to the doors.  
She was exiting her room, much to the confusion of the door guards.

They met in the Garden at 9:53. Both were early and shaking with nervousness.

Clarisse had been rehearsing what she would say to him for the past hour. She wanted to tell him everything in a way that he would understand. She was an excellent public speaker; she spoke to hundreds of people every day. This was different. This was Joseph. This terrified her.

Joseph had been anticipating rejection, and nearly came to the conclusion that he should offer rejection to her before she had the chance to break his heart. I can't be with you. I'm not worthy. But he knew those words would never come out. He was holding on to the hope that she could change her mind and fall for him – like some stupid fantasy novel. It wasn't possible.

To his surprise, she greeted him with a kiss. It was a quick and forced meeting of the lips, just as he had seen her and Rupert share a million times.

"Joseph, I've been thinking."

Here it was: the rejection that he never wanted to hear, but always expected. It was playing out exactly how he had imagined. She would say that she wanted to be with him, but it was too difficult as queen. She loved him deeply but she could never see him like this again. The kiss was a mistake. They needed to stay friends, and of course no one could know. His mind was swimming with a thousand ways to try to convince her to be with him. He knew the country and her duty would always get in the way of her emotions. He, of course, had no chance. So it was back to fleeting touches and the occasional dance at a lesser ball where no one would judge them and all would just assume them friendly colleagues.

"We should do this." She sighed and smiled – proud of herself for finally admitting that she wanted something so selfish for once in her life. Everything she had done had been for the monarchy. Everything was for the family and the country. This was just for her. For him. For them.

"What?" Joseph nearly choked with surprise. "Clarisse, are you sure?"

"But it must remain hidden to some degree. The whole world knows we're friends, and have been for some years, but they can't know that…" She paused, "that we've kissed."

"Yes. Of course" he smiled softly. "I'm not even sure I believe it"

"Nor am I" Clarisse grinned, "but I suppose I've changed"

"You are quite the rebel, your majesty" Joseph leaned in to kiss her again. He never wanted to stop kissing her; he was afraid she would change her mind. It was likely that she would. She wasn't used to the freedom that she had as the head of the country. She'd always been careful to walk one step behind Rupert, and one step in front of Joseph. With this kiss, all following and all that came before, the hierarchy was changed…if only in private. They were equals here, while the lights of the garden were shining on the flower beds. As soon as the sun took their place, Joseph would be expected to fall in line.  
Once again he would be unable to kiss, to touch, to hold his queen. No one could know how much he wanted to ravish her whenever they got a moment alone. Now was his chance to let it all out. Now was the only chance he had to kiss her before everything went back to 'normal'.

"Oh…" Clarisse sighed, breaking the kiss, "can they see us here?"

"I assure you that all of the guards will keep our secret, my love" Joseph took her hand.

"I know this will be difficult. At least, I know it will for me. But I can't let this go, not since we danced" Her eyes sparkled with the memory of letting herself be led onto the dance floor. She was filled with girlish delight whenever she remembered his hands on her hips and the scent of his cologne. She could smell it now if she leaned in close enough. Inhaling and licking her lips, she ran her free hand over her skirt.

"The wango?" Joseph chuckled, squeezing Clarisse's hand. She smiled again and took her hand back, suddenly overwhelmed by him. She felt that she couldn't control what she would do next. She decided to change the subject and distract herself from her rising heart rate.

"Is anyone looking for me?" she asked.

"No, I informed them you would be leaving," he said, watching her eyes drop, "I didn't tell them why you would be leaving."

"Oh. Good, then," Clarisse said. Joseph looked almost holy to her in this light. She had waited far too long to be able to take command and kiss him. She had waited too long to be able to feel anything beside love for her country. She hadn't known that she would feel such a sense of loyalty to a place she had inherited. An arranged marriage was never what she wanted; though she had been incredibly happy with Rupert, nothing could compare to what she felt when Joseph touched her. She kissed him again and whispered, "walk me back?"

Joseph wasn't sure what kind of invitation this was. He assumed that she literally meant she wanted to be returned to her room, but she had been so full of surprises that didn't know what to expect. He took her hand again and she pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Joseph."

He nodded. Of course it would be like this. Entering the palace was entering the watchful eyes of the security cameras, and therefore, becoming public knowledge. Everything Clarisse did was punctuated by the thought of the public catching wind of it. Joseph was less concerned with what they thought of him. He had always been around to protect her image, and now he was set up to unintentionally ruin it. He wondered what would happen if anyone found out. There had always been some suspicion among the staff, but Joseph had said he was doing his job to protect the crown. His love for the royal family was out of duty to the country, not out of love for the matriarch. Some of the staff had taken this as an excuse, but others knew better.

"No, Clarisse. You're right. No one can know. Are you certain it is safe for me to walk you back?"

"You've done it a million times, Joseph. I can't imagine anyone thinking anything of it now" she said, beginning a slow walk back to her bedroom. "Though," she started, "oh never mind."

"What is it?" Joseph asked, trailing a half a step behind her. Old habits were hard to break.

"It's going to be hard to make you leave this time" Clarisse whispered, especially without a kiss goodnight."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four.

This day was going to be difficult. Another Princess Lesson was today, and there were another 12 hours before 7pm, when she would be free for the night, and free to be with Joseph. Clarisse wasn't ready to face the hours that Joseph would spend at Mia's school, away from her. Since the declaration of affection in the garden, her mind had gone fuzzy. It had been a few days since they had kissed, and Clarisse's lips ached to feel Joseph's lips pressed against them. She thought about his hands, and the way they moved over her body as they had danced days before. She thought about the scent of him, and the crispness of his leather jacket rubbing on her bare wrists in the garden. She thought about the rumble in his voice when called her by her first name. Even now, in bed at 7am, his voice haunted her. She longed to have him whisper in her ear.

But, there were plenty of things to get done today. She rose from her bed and pulled the satin cord hanging from the ceiling. Charlotte had insisted on having it installed, to make sure that the queen was attended to at all times. Some mornings, Clarisse took advantage of the alone time and pretended to sleep past 7. In reality, she was sitting up in bed, reading a book of poetry that was torn and frayed at the edges. She had been reading this book for over 18 years. The words were branded into her memory, but that didn't stop her from turning each page with her brow furrowed in concentration, searching for a deep interpretation that she may have missed. It was no longer the words inside that told the story – it was the particular pattern of tea stains and tear marks. Some pages were streaked heavily with one or the other. These were the pages that had frayed the deepest. These were the pages that had found their way into her soul.

This morning, she took the book out of the drawer in the nightstand, and made a mental note that she needed new furniture in her Genovian bedroom – preferably something with a drawer in which to keep the book. Hiding it under her pillow was becoming more and more difficult with age. Luckily, her husband never asked where the book came from, or why she kept reading it over and over. She wasn't sure she could answer that question anyway. She wondered if she should get some copies made of a few of the poems. Mia would be able to read them aloud for elocution lessons. Then again, copies of these words would be copies of parts of her soul, and she wasn't sure she wanted to share. Clarisse thumbed through the pages carefully, and the book naturally opened to one particular poem.

_Y porque amor combate  
no sólo en su quemante agricultura,  
sino en la boca de hombres y mujeres,  
terminaré saliéndole al camino  
a los que entre mi pecho y tu fragancia  
quieran interponer su planta oscura._

Just as Clarisse was getting lost again in the words that played in her mind, the door to her suite opened. Charlotte hurried in, muttering something about the busy day ahead. Clarisse was beginning to like this girl. Charlotte was new, but she was sharp. She was always on top of the schedule and able to change anything at a moment's notice. Clarisse silently cursed herself now. She hadn't heard a thing Charlotte had said.

"I don't suppose it is possible to cancel everything for today?" Clarisse sighed, putting the book back in the drawer. She watched Charlotte's face contort and the pen in her hand begin to move. Clarisse raised a hand, "I'm kidding, Charlotte. My apologies. Could you go over the first half of the day again?"

Charlotte forced a smile and began to read off the schedule again. _Breakfast, paperwork for the Prime Minister, meeting with the Prime Minister, Lunch…_Clarisse wondered if she could talk fast enough to bring lunch up an hour. Her head was spinning with dread of talking business with Sebastian for more than 30 minutes at a time. She had a goal in coming to America. She needed time to train the heir to the throne. She needed even more time to convince the girl to do it. _Ah ha. _What Mia needed was most likely a boost in confidence.

"Charlotte – get Paulo here this afternoon in place of Mia's lessons. I think a little care of her appearance may change her outlook on things" Charlotte nodded reluctantly. The last thing she wanted was to babysit that clown again, even if he was an excellent stylist.

Paulo had visited a few days before…the morning of the dance with Joseph. Clarisse trusted him with her hair in America, and occasionally in Genovia. He spent summers overseas in the small country. Now, he was residing in America, making a living off of the rich and famous. If he were not so talented with hair, Clarisse would have dumped him long ago. Going through the process of finding someone secure was a pain, so she stuck out his awful accent long enough to get a decent hairstyle.

Clarisse dismissed Charlotte, promising to dress herself and come down to breakfast momentarily. She sat down on the bed and pulled out the book again. The words were in Spanish on one side, and copied in English on the other. She could read both fluently, and felt that the words in Spanish were much more beautiful than their translations. There were times when she would read them both out loud, alone in her room. Depending on her mood, tears would pour from her eyes, appreciating the beauty and elegance of this poetry, and wondering if this particular book had been handpicked for any secret reason. Was there a code hiding in the marginal notes? There were lines circled and underlined all throughout, work of the previous owner. No one would have dreamed that the queen's most prized possession was a used book of poetry, covered in ink marks that she didn't make.

To her surprise, the queen heard a knock at the door. She tied her robe around herself and went to answer it. Before it opened all the way, she knew. The scent of coffee and cologne filled her head with excitement and joy.

"Good morning, your majesty!" Joseph called into the suite. She smiled and motioned for him to shut the door. She heard it click and she was in his arms. He stumbled backward from the force of her lips catching him off guard. "Well then, good morning to me." His arms encircled her as he returned her kiss with equal fervor and contentment.

"Joseph, I am so happy to see you this morning" he didn't hear her. He was staring at her hand that contained a small, black bound book. She instinctively pulled her arm in and behind her back, smiling unabashedly at him. "What's the matter?" She asked, using her free arm to pull him farther into the sitting room of her suite.

"You kept it." His mind was dizzy with the thought of Clarisse holding onto that book. Why would she have kept it? And if she brought it here, was she still reading it? She pushed it out in front of her, opening her palm to display it for Joseph to examine. He noted the tear stains and the marks from cups of tea. He pulled gently at the frayed edges. He ran a finger over the hand written notes he had made 18 years before. "You kept it," he repeated, "you kept it." He thumbed carefully through the pages and scanned the words he hadn't read since he left it in her room on her birthday that year. He had wrapped it in a satin ribbon and put it on her nightstand for her to find. Rupert had been out of town. Clarisse stayed up all night reading the words and wondering who had left the book.

It hadn't taken her long to recognize the writing as her head of security's own.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five.

"Of course I kept it. You underestimate me" Clarisse covered his hand as it continued to finger the delicate threads of the book. No one had touched this book other than her since she received it. Though it was back in the original owner's hands, she felt a pang of nervousness every time he turned a page. "It's very special to me," she stroked his hand with her thumb, "you are very special to me."

Joseph still couldn't believe he was holding this book of poetry in his hands. It looked like it had been read every day of the 18 years that Clarisse kept it by her bed. He wondered why these poems touched her so deeply even after she must know them by heart. Clarisse broke him out of his thoughts by explaining where she had kept it, and why she loved the words so much. Suddenly she said something that shocked him.

"It was the only piece of your soul that I had. It moved me when I knew that you couldn't. This is book is the reason that I knew I cared for you so."

"Oh, Clarisse…" his voice caught in his throat. He was unaware that the message of the book had reached her just as he had intended. He kissed her softly, setting down the book on a side table. She sighed contentedly and deepened the kiss, running her hands down his back. He ran his fingers through her hair and nibbled on her bottom lip, drinking in the moan that escaped from her mouth.

"I'll never make breakfast at this rate" she said while Joseph moved his lips from her mouth to her neck, "mmm…Joseph…we need to stop…" she half-heartedly protested, tilting her head to the side and leaning into his kisses, "I have a lot to do…"

He heard her clearly, and began to pull back. She gripped his shoulder and pulled him closer, her body contradicting her words. She thought of protesting again, but instead reclaimed his mouth for another intense kiss. She felt him reach for the ties of her robe, and wondered if she should stop him from releasing her from the confines of satin that draped around her nightgown. If he removed it, she would still be fully clothed – indecent – but clothed. If he didn't remove it soon, she was likely to sweat through it anyway. So she broke away for a moment and nodded her approval.

Joseph couldn't believe this was the same queen he had known last week. He knew now that she had been lusting after him just as he had been lusting after her. These years of desire could all end now if she were willing to let him get closer. He pulled at the ties of her robe and it opened for him, pulling apart gracefully and revealing a world of satin and lace beneath it. He ran his hands above her breasts and pushed the robe off of her shoulders. It pooled under her, shining in the sunlight that was filtering through the window. He was overcome with the need to press his lips over every inch of skin that was newly exposed. He led her over to the couch and gently leaned her against the pillows. He looked for her approval and was delighted when she nodded and held out her arms for him. His kissed her collarbone, her shoulders, and the valley that was peeking out from under the lace. He swore he could taste the sweetness of the freckles that dusted her skin.

Clarisse was lost in his ministrations. Her skin was burning under each kiss that passed over her. She moaned and clawed at his back as he moved over her. He had removed his jacket, and she was debating pulling off his tee shirt, so nothing separated her wanting hands from their goal. It had been a long time since she had done anything like this. She and Rupert had rarely kissed beyond hello or goodnight. He had certainly never burned her skin with a kiss. Joseph was driving her insane, and she hadn't even dressed for the day. She raked her fingernails down his back as he nibbled at her shoulder. Suddenly she put a hand on his chest and pushed him up and away.

"We can't" she whispered, overcome with emotions for this man who was panting softly in front of her.

"Of course" he said, bowing his head. He stepped back, picking up his leather jacket off the floor. He was happy to have had this time with her, but his voice was laced with disappointment that he tried to conceal.

"We will" she said, picking up her robe and tying it around her again, as if to officially close off the gate. She wasn't ready, and she really did need to start her day. Clarisse wasn't sure how long it would take her to be ready to make love to him. It had been so long since anyone had even touched her. Rupert was sick for years before he died, and they were not that sort of married couple. They made love out of duty to their country – first to produce heirs and secondly to keep them biologically satisfied. Romance wasn't the goal as much as running a thread through their marriage. They had promised to stay faithful, and as far as physicality went, they had. Of course the odd crush had taken over both the King and the Queen, but it was never a threat to their union. It would have been too complicated to have and cover up a real affair. "We will." She repeated, promising him…and herself…that she would give herself over completely, eventually... Joseph looked hopefully at her and grinned.

"I hope so" his voice was lighthearted. He had waited forever. Why bother being impatient now?

"It's just…I promised Charlotte I would make it down to breakfast, and I only have 15 minutes now." She darted into her closet and pulled out a suit, laying it on the bed and calling to Joseph from the other room, "wait just a moment, and I'll be out."

He picked up the book of poetry again, silently thanking the Pablo Neruda for writing such beautiful poems that had brought them together.

Clarisse came back into the room and twirled.

"Beautiful, your majesty" Joseph bowed and kissed her hand, "shall I escort you to breakfast?"

Her eyes sparkled. She placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him softly on the lips. He went to open the door to the suite, and she nodded and headed out toward her day.


End file.
